Monday, June 11, 2007


When I sit still and ponder on God working in my life, I feel like my fire has somewhat gotten down to a low simmer. I remember years ago not just lifting my hands in worship, but totally abandoning myself, laying flat on the floor, not afraid to cry or ask for prayer.

This Sunday was somewhat of an eye-opener. We have an open mic at our church during worship to where we invite people who feel God speak to come and share. One of the girls came and invited the Holy Spirit. By this, I don't mean she simply asked Him to come, but cried about how our hearts are to be as the Bride of Christ and how we need to not forget what Christ did for us. She even encouraged us to stand and pray and we had a time of inviting the Spirit. After her, two or three people came up and mentioned how they felt the presence of the Holy Spirit. Yet, I sat there, feeling no different, wondering if He's been with me this whole time or if I've become numb to Him.

Another person came up and confessed she'd been struggling with intimacy with God. She just graduated from school for Sign Language. She's been able to translate anything, but has always had a problem lifting her hands or using them in worship. She told us what was going on in her head during the invitation. Her spirit told her not to stand, yet she asked God for help and stood out of faith. Then there was the struggle to lift her hands, then a struggle on letting the tears come out of the pain of being a Sunday Christian, then her spirit telling her she wouldn't tell anyone, yet she overcame. She asked for accountability

At the beginning of my pregnancy our church had a 40 day fast. This wasn't just a food issue, but it was a time to fast something that has gotten in the way of growing closer to God. I fasted my sleep after 5:30 a.m. and secular music. I would set two alarms on my phone - one for 5:30 and one for 6:00 (when I'd usually get up), devoting the time between the alarms to reading my Bible. I started off with vigor and occasionally would silence the first so I could simply lie next to my husband and rest a little longer. The Word had become my daily bread.

After the fast I lost my zeal. I haven't had a constant devotional time since then.

I still get my time with God. I went to a church that encouraged constant prayer. Knowing God is always with me I have little conversations with Him and make note of all of His kisses throughout the day, letting me know He is near and loves me. He's always on my mind, not always up front, but always near.

I have the desire for intimacy with Him, but I think fear has been a huge obstacle. I don't know how I come off in my blog, whether people who read this think I'm a strong and confident person, or if you can see through it all. If you've read previous posts you'd know I've made the decision to avoid the RhoGam shot. I have, most of the time, peace about our decision. I truly feel God releasing me to trust His handy work in creating our child. This baby is in His timing and His plan and I'd have it no other way.

Even though I know it'll be okay not to take the shot, every so often fear creeps in. The main fear is that my baby's kicking is really him kicking in pain, hoping I'll do something about it. I also get fear that my dizzy spells are a sign of something worse, fear that I won't be able to make the important decisions when the time comes, fear that I don't know everything about labor and birth, fear of making wrong/uninformed decisions, fear I won't be the constant mom and wife that my family needs, fear that I'm not fulfilling my husband's needs...these have all been running through my mind, little lies the enemy is constantly planting to stress me out and question my faith. They haven't gotten to the point where I've been gripped by them as I am mostly as peace, but they are still there...lingering.

I'm afraid that if I start reading my Bible and press into God with all I have that I'll break. (This, coming from the one who is an advocate of breakage, knowing God's full power in it.) All my life my biggest weakness has been my strength...that is, my desire to appear strong. I've always had my days of "emotionally vomiting", where every other month or so I would simply cry, not really knowing why. As I write this I remember within the last couple years feeling I've overcome and that I somehow made my weakness my strength. During that time, when I was dealing with arthritis pain, my motto was 2 Corinthians 12:9-10
And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

I'm coming to the realization that it's a constant battle to remain malleable in God's hands.

All that said, I guess I'm waiting. I know God is jealous for my heart and that He will do anything to win me over, including sacrificing His son. Eventually He'll crack me and I'll come to terms with my fears and learn what it really means to give them up and to trust in Him. Deep in my heart, I just hope it happens soon...

1 comment:

Gombojav Tribe said...

I hear you. I know what you're feeling.

Just remember that perfect love casts out fear.

I love you!